


The Last Vicar

by Aster_Writes_Here



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: Body Horror, F/F, Pre-Canon, obligatory Ludwig/Laurence, the fic ends with Laurence dying and Ludwig missing so don't expect much, theres more Ludwig/Laurence in Sainted then in here, well...you know how it ends in game :(
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:42:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26636779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aster_Writes_Here/pseuds/Aster_Writes_Here
Summary: Amelia inherits the title of Vicar as well as the weight of her predecessor's sins.---A short companion fic to Sainted, exploring Amelia's tragic road to Beasthood.
Relationships: Vicar Amelia/Henriett
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	The Last Vicar

“Amelia, Amelia.” Vicar Laurence’s hoarse voice echoed through the halls of the Cathedral. Amelia continued to pray, her eyes squeezed shut as she had since she first saw the smoke curl over the steeples and rooftops. She did not need to open her eyes, the red glare from the fire seeped through the church’s windows like an artificial sunrise while she desperately tried to immerse herself in comforting prayer.  


“Dear Amelia.” Vicar Laurence croaked as his footsteps came closer. Amelia clutched her pendent tightly in her hands, her eyes flying open at his approach. She did not hear human footsteps approaching, only dragging, lumbering thuds. 

“You set the town ablaze!” She cried out, half rising, half stepping away from the Vicar as he drew near. 

“I have saved Yharnam!” Laurence said, his voice pleading. He held out his scorched hands, blood dripping from lengthening nails. 

“You and the Hunters, you destroyed Old Yharnam! You murdered our people!” Amelia shouted as Laurence continued to lurch forwards. His thinning hair had burnt and crinkled, standing on end like a wild mane. His face was so covered in burns, soot and blood that he no longer looked human-a shambling, burned figure speaking in the voice of her mentor. 

“I was a fool, Amelia. I should have listened. I should have listened to Master Wilhelm. The Blood was to be feared.” Thick, branch-like horns were beginning to sprout from his skull, shedding bloody skin on the flagstones as they grew.

Amelia had been backed up against the altar by the charred, bloodied figure. She looked up beseechingly at the statue above her-a stone Angel, dispensing the holy blood. 

_ He’s not Laurence, not any more. Or was this The Vicar all along? _

Laurence reached out to her with his hand-no, it was now a collection of blacked talons set in a furry, burnt paw. 

“It’s too late for me, Amelia. This is what the blood does. It makes us more than, then no longer human.” 

Amelia was caught in the shadow of a monstrous figure above her, a massive, emaciated beast with the face of a burned, decomposing creature, the Vicar’s ruined face pulled and distorted over an inhuman skull. 

_ Someone help me, Ludwig, Maria, Gherman, anyone- _

“You have to save us all, Vicar.” Laurence’s last words were distorted, inhumanly deep. The beast shuddered, clutching its head with it’s grotesquely deformed left arm, before raising its head to the sky and shrieking.

Amelia closed her eyes. She would not see the beast as it tore into her.

Orange light flooded the church as the massive doors were flung open. Many boots sounded on the stairs, men shouting. 

“Get the Torches and the oil!” A woman called. The monster whirled on the strangers, Amelia opened her eyes.

“Henriett!” She gasped, half relieved, half terrified for her friend. The woman nodded gravely at her, a torch held aloft in one hand, a silver sword in the other. Two huntsmen on either side of her flanked the beast, both tossing buckets of oil, dousing the singed monster. The beast shrieked as the substance entered it’s wounds, charging towards Henriett. Not showing any fear as the beast came at her,teeth bared and claws extended, Henriett lunged forwards with the grace of a fencer with the torch, striking the beast’s snout.

The Thing that was Laurence screamed once more, this time in agonizing pain. The hungry flames had lept from torch to his body moment before the torch had even made contact, greedy for the accelerant that coated him. The scent of burning flesh and hair that had entered the Cathedral with the Vicar now became unbearable. The masked hunters, following Henreitt’s guidance, surrounded the burning beast, laying into him with sawblades, axes and whip-like canes.

Her eyes watering for more reasons than just the foul smoke and odor, Amelia covered her mouth and nose with her white scarf. Henriett broke from the Hunter’s ranks and gripped her hand.

“It’s going to be alright!” Henriett said with as much conviction as she could muster. Despite her fearless actions earlier, reality was beginning to set in for her the same way it was for Amelia.

“Laurence-why?!” Amelia cried out. Henriett embraced her, trying to shield her from the sight of the dismemberment of the smouldering beast, but Amelia saw.

The monster’s massive head hit the floor, viscera and blood pooling on the tiles around it. Laurence, the first Vicar, had died.

\---

After Alfred had left to become the Blood Saint of the Executioners, Amelia’s life returned to how it was before. Of course, now she was painfully aware of how lonely she had been. Having a friend, even one who was very ill and unable to talk at first, had given her great joy that had vanished along with the departing carriage to the Executioner’s workshop. 

This all changed when Ludwig introduced her to his protege. A girl her own age, a medallion of the Holy Blade’s gleaming on her neck, her light brown hair tucked neatly away under a battered top hat. 

Ludwig’s own circle of Hunters, the Holy Blades was a circle of elite hunters handpicked from the Yharnamites he had recruited to join the Hunt. Henriett was a Yharnam girl with foreign parents from New Loran, a little country over the Western Mountains. Once they had met, the two girls instantly felt a connection. Both were interested in novels and the History of Yharnam, and the two happily spent time together whenever Ludwig and his Blades would return from beast hunting in the woods.

Amelia had known that to be a member of the Holy Blades, let alone being picked to be Ludwig’s own successor, Henreitt must be a fearsomely brave Hunter indeed. She never thought her skills would be displayed in her own cathedral to slay the man who had raised her. 

Laurence’s corpse was dragged out by the Blades, leaving reddened streaks along the Cathedral’s stone steps. Amelia, still in Henriett’s arms, made eye contact with the twisted, leering skull. Henriett whispered words of comfort, tried to get her to stop shaking, but Amelia stared ahead with glazed eyes, in shock.

Laurence had spoken of cleansing the source of Beasts once and for all. He had kept his words vague, and Amelia had believed his intentions were noble. But after Ludwig had vanished mere weeks before, something in his demeanor had changed. He paused giving abruptly sermons, instead having Amelia give them on her own. Amelia, at first, thought he meant to give her more confidence leading the congregation, but as the days went on, she began to worry. 

He spent more and more time in conference with Gehrman. The Beasts had begun to appear in the city streets, and Amelia could feel both Laurence’s and her congregation’s anxiety as she gave Communion and prayed to the Great Ones. 

Now she knew what he had been planning. Laurence had believed that the source had been old Yharnam, the section of the city where Beasts had been most common. Perhaps he had been spurred on by old Gehrman, a man who Amelia had begun to dislike greatly as the years went by. Perhaps the loss of Ludwig had driven him over the edge. No matter what the reason, that evening, Laurence and Gehrman's hunters had left, moving swiftly towards Old Yharnam. Amelia had believed it to be the usual nightly hunt.  


Now, Laurence, the First Vicar, was dead after betraying and murdering his own people and razing his own city, and she was left alone to take his place at the mere age of sixteen, woefully unprepared. 

“Great Ones save us.” Amelia whispered. 

**Author's Note:**

> I promised -checks watch- months ago that I'd write a fic for Amelia. So, uh, here it is. About time I wrote a lesbian fic, too bad it's in a fandom where a happy ending requires serious canon breaking :(  
> It's going to be a lot shorter and simpler then Sainted is (Hopefully) and mostly have short chapters. I'm sorry Amelia you deserved better Queen.


End file.
